Once again it is Saturday and PJ is sleeping late. As always, I question how he has convinced Siggy and Fritz to let him do so.

PJ, if you have some method that allows you to convince your dogs to allow you to sleep late ONE day a week, I would like you to share it. I’ve tried explaining to mine about Saturday, but they just don’t get it. Or, more likely, they just don’t care. Either way, they and their feline cohorts always manage to get me up and moving in the direction of the kitchen.

I’m still pinching myself, every morning, to make sure that there really is a President-elect Obama. I don’t think he is the savior that an old lefty like me envisions, but he’s not McInane, or Ghouliani or….you know, any of those crazy, myopic, fawning, egomaniacs that ran for the Rethug ticket.

I wonder if those congressional Rethugs will start insisting on investigating O’s birth certificate, or whether he’s a secret Muslim. Let’s hope that the Attorney General he picks does not have the same faulty reasoning that led Janet Reno to appoint Ken Starr and forget to put any restraints on him.

The good, if very mundane part of this Saturday, is that it is raining. That means hubby can’t work outdoors and therefore he will help me paint the ceiling that I have to do. I hate painting ceilings.

Have a good one!